Ticks of the Clock
by Maiden of the Moon
Summary: With each tick of the clock, another moment passes by. . . a collection of AU and non-AU ficlets. (RosetteChrono orientated)
1. Macaroni

_Disclaimer: I own Chrno, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: Woo! I love ficlet corners! XD And I think Chrono Crusade fan fiction needs a few ficlet corners, so here's my little contribution. :) Just like Semei no Kakera (if you happen to read that ficlet corner of mine), this will be a random collection of both AU and non-AU ideas, mainly centered around Rosette and Chrono. Occasionally I'll play with other pairings, too. XD

_However, unlike Semei no Kakera, I'm not going to give these ficlets a word length maximum- I'll judge it visually. (So if it looks really long, it'll just be a one-shot. If it's short enough, it'll go under here. In retrospect, I wish I would have waited to put Dancing with Hellfire and Fly With Me under here, but what's done is done. Oh well! XD) _

Well, that's about it! And heeeeeere we go!

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Macaroni _

_**X**_

"Shit!"

With a breathless whine of a gasp, the blue-eyed teen flew towards the stove, cursing the bubbling pot before her with colorful words. "Dammit, dammit, dammit! Eep!" Trying her best not to get burned as she moved the silver pan by its thin black handle, the girl mumbled darkly under her breath; wiping up the hissing steam and overflowed bubbles with a cloth. "Curse it all. . . Sorry about this, Chrono!"

When spoken to, her boyfriend smiled- arching an amused eyebrow. Pushing away from their Social Studies project on the table and instead moving towards his partner, he shook his head; noticing the problem right away. "Rosette," he sighed, flipping his long violet braid deftly over his shoulder, "no wonder you've almost flooded the house! You've got the stove on high- to boil macaroni, you only need it on medium!"

"But Chronooooo!" Rosette complained childishly, gingerly placing the pot back on the bright red burner- only to pull it quickly away again when the whole contraption began sputtering evilly. "That takes too long! There's more to life than waiting for macaroni to boil, you know."

". . ." He smiled, seating himself on the edge of the kitchen island. "Yeah. Like Social Studies projects," he prodded teasingly, rolling his eyes as she, for the third time, tried to get the noodles cooking again. This time, half the water remaining in the pan frothed over the edge, falling onto the young woman's unprepared fingertips.

"Oh shu- ouch!" Yelping as the pain registered, Rosette instinctively stuck her abused digit in her mouth, brow furrowing. Only then did she allow Chrono to lower the temperature of the stove. "Oh. . . Fine. You win," she grumbled, eyeing the twisted dial with distaste. "I'll _wait _for my damn mac-n-cheese. You happy?"

"Mmhm," the boy hummed from the countertop, hooking his feet around the back of the girl's legs; pulling her closer. "I am." Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, Chrono pulled out a band-aid (something he'd begun carrying around with him when he and Rosette had started dating), pealing back the wrapper. "Because you know," he continued, gently tugging the girl's finger from her mouth and wrapping the bandage around it, holding her hand gently in his own, "life doesn't _always _have to be so fast paced."

His grin widened when Rosette blushed; placing a soft kiss on the tip of her now-healing wound. "Sometimes you _can _take it slow. I promise it won't kill you."

Still pink in the cheeks but obviously pleased at the attention she was receiving, the blonde teen beamed- winking cheerfully. "Well. . . If you promise."

The macaroni began to bubble again- but this time, because it was ready. Lunch was served.

_**X**_

_Ending Note: This one was inspired by my own actions, actually. I tend to make mac-n-cheese like Rosette does. . . By allowing the water to boil over twenty zillion times. (sweat drop) Hope you enjoyed! Please R and R! _


	2. Memo to Me

_Disclaimer: I own Chrno, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: Please see chapter one for note.

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Memo to Me _

_**X**_

"Umm. . ."

"Yeah. . ."

Both stood awkwardly at her front door; the woman fidgeting with her purse, the man raking a hand through his dark hair. All in all, it hadn't been that good of a first date. . . He wasn't allowed back into any of the near-by restaurants for the rest of his life, she had had a little accident half-way through the night (which had resulted in a noticeable stain on the front of her gown), and both had found themselves at a lack of things to say. It wasn't so much that there wasn't anything TOO say- there was just no motivation to speak. The fact of the matter was that this Rosette sort of. . . scared him. And Chrono had the feeling that she wasn't used to dealing with her boss's boss on such a personal level.

'Memo to me,' he couldn't help but think, watching Rosette embarrassedly search for her house keys, 'fire Azmaria in the morning.'

Still, regardless of how. . . _interesting_. . . the whole night had been, Chrono wanted to end it all with a touch of class; not only his ego's sake, but to give them both something nice to say when someone asked.

"Well," he cleared his throat after a moment, smiling cheerfully down at the shorter girl. "This is always the strange part, isn't it? What to do now? Shake hands stiffly and walk away? Hug like friends? Or. . . ?"

Rosette paused, glancing up from her key ring in order to arch an eyebrow at the man. "Or. . . ?" she prompted, a glitter of challenge forming in her sapphire pools.

"Or," he continued softly, reaching out to take the young woman's hand. "We could meet somewhere delightfully in-between." Lifting the back of her palm slowly to his lips, he sunk into a slight bow- placing a chaste kiss upon her warm skin. And that was that.

Or so he assumed.

Straightening and preparing to say good-bye, the man was astonished to see a bored look upon Rosette's face. Odd. Every other bimb- er- lady- he'd tried that on had swooned, allowing him to quickly escape. What was?

Sighing heavily, the blonde shook her head. "Pathetic," she quipped, tugging her hand back. "Are you always this wimpy, or are you just out of practice? THIS is how you end a date."

Grabbing the lapel of Chrono's dress shirt without warning, Rosette forcefully yanked the man foreword; locking their mouths in a heated embrace. His eyes widened in shock at the bold action, a cherry-colored blush forming on his cheeks. 'Wha. . . !'

After a moment the woman loosened her grip, falling back onto her heels. "Now," she whispered, their noses brushing. "Grow a backbone and call me tomorrow. We're going out again on Tuesday. Got that?"

". . ." Gradually, a grin grew on the man's face; matching the one on Rosette's perfectly. "Yes, ma'am."

'Memo to me. . . Give Azmaria a raise in the morning.'

_**X**_

_Ending Note: I've had that idea in my head for ages. I'm so glad to have finally written it. XD _


	3. Polish

_Disclaimer: I own Chrno, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: Please see chapter one for note.

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Polish _

_**X**_

"What are you doing?"

"Polishing the pocket watch."

The answer comes so easily, so bluntly, so simply, that I am taken aback. Blinking once, I allow my eyes to roam over her body; following the path of her arms, the flow of her fingers, the wave of her hair as she pours over the small clock, tongue between her teeth. The bed beneath her creaks when she shifts. I take my place on the floor before her.

". . . How come?" I continue, staring up at her; arms wrapped loosely around my crossed legs.

"Because it's dirty."

"Oh."

Silence blankets us for a moment, Rosette still working her dirty rag feverishly over the watch; never tiring. The dull gleam of the brass surface begins to brighten under her care.

"Do you clean it often?"

"Sometimes." She glances towards the doorway I had just walked through, the one which I had left slightly ajar. I take the hint, stand, and shut it tightly again. Her casual "thanks" is my reward.

"No problem."

I sit again, this time on the mattress beside her; leaning curiously closer. My unbound locks cascade over both my shoulders and her own. She says nothing of it.

"Have you always cleaned it?"

"Of course."

A pause. I frown, resting my chin in the nape of her neck. The action surprises her and she stiffens, but doesn't ask me to move. Good. I don't feel like moving anyway.

Our quietness continues. The early birds outside the window sing. I think. Then I speak.

". . . Why?"

Her rapidly moving cloth slowing somewhat, Rosette turns her head inquisitively towards me. "Huh?"

"Why?" I repeat, our eyes locking. I tilt my head, cheek rubbing against the coarse cloth of her habit. "Why do you clean it? What does it matter if it's dirty? Why do you care?" It's nothing more than a Seal of your Death, Rosette. . . Why take the time to love it so?

She stares at me, stunned. Then embarrassed. And finally annoyed. The bump on the head I had expected since the beginning is presented to me post-haste. Only after that does she reply.

"Idiot. Because you gave it to me. That makes it special. And special things need to be kept clean, be cared for, have their hair done, and. . . stuff."

". . ." A fresh red hue stains my cheeks, then paints her own. ". . . Oh."

Again, silence.

She allows the pocket watch to fall back onto her chest with a soft 'clack'; setting the rag aside. "Would you like me to braid your hair?"

"Please."

_**X**_

_Ending Note: I realize Rosette's a little OOC here, but she's really not all THAT abusive. . . Sometimes. . . Well, she can be nice once in a while. XD Anyway, I hope you all noticed the rather obvious metaphor I was trying to make here. . . If not, I'll explain later. :)_


	4. Hair

_Disclaimer: I own Chrno, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: Please see chapter one for note.

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Hair_

_**X**_

Chrono first mentions it while bandaging my arm, lips pursed, eyes downcast. I arch an eyebrow at his unreadable expression, only allowing my curiosity to register after Father Remington has gone- the one remain of his short visit the encouraging words left floating in the air.

"What's wrong?" I ask my devil companion, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. He rolls my white blouse sleeve up a bit higher, gently wrapping the gauze around my shallow wound. "I know I hurt my arm, but it's not _that _serious, is it?"

". . . Your hair," he murmurs after a moment, glancing up enough to notice a stray strand by my ear- taking a second to push it back into place. I blush slightly. "It's so short."

"I realize that," I snort, tossing my head haughtily and grinning widely at Chrono. "I did it myself, after all. Right after we got here. Didn't you notice?" If he hadn't, I wouldn't be surprised. I'd overheard from some girls in the halls that men are generally unobservant, after all- and that certainly seemed to apply to many of the boys at Seventh Bell.

But Chrono's not like that, so, on the flip side, I guess it doesn't totally shock me when he says:

"I did."

The frown remains on his face as he carefully ties the ends of the bandage together. After done, he boldly locks our gazes. "But why? They looked so cute in the pigtails."

Again, I flush slightly- but brush it off, winking. "_That's _why! Because it was _cute_. Only **little girls **wear their hair long and in pigtails. Grownups have _short _hair."

". . . ?" He blinks, straightening slightly. "B- but Rosette," he stammers, a stunned note in his voice, "you _are_ a little girl."

". . ."

My eyes narrow.

". . ."

A vein throbs on my forehead.

". . ."

I grit my teeth.

And then. . .

"CHRONO!" I scream, grabbing his braid and giving it a sharp tug. He yelps and whimpers, leaning foreword instinctively. I stare down my nose at him. "I am NOT a LITTLE GIRL! How DARE yo-!"

But I hear myself trail off mutely as a pair of strong arms suddenly wrap around my middle; his already lowered face buried in my stomach. A desperate squeeze follows the initial embrace, and I find myself at a loss for what to do. "Ch. . . Chro. . . ?"

"Don't, Rosette. . ." he whispers, an aching sadness creeping into his tone. "Don't grow up so fast. . . You're still a little girl, Rosette- despite what. . . Despite. . . Don't make more time pass than it should."

The arms tighten once more. And, with a roll of my eyes, I feel my heated face cool slightly. My arms drop to his shoulders, my head resting upon the back of his neck.

"Oh. . . All right," I sigh, trying to sound strained and annoyed. "I'll grow my hair out again."

". . ." His lips curve upward a bit; I can feel them through my habit. ". . . Thank you."

_**X**_

_Ending Note: Yes, Rosette DID have short hair when she was training in the convent. This idea was inspired by that fact (Obviously). The scene talked about in this ficlet can be read in volume 2- and Rosette really does have short hair in the flashback, I swear! _


	5. Time

_Disclaimer: I own Chrno, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you!_

Author's Note: Please see chapter one for note. 

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Time_

_**X**_

She never talked about it. Running out of time. . .

Instead she smiled and snickered at my dumb jokes, cracking ones herself when I did something stupid. She loved a good laugh- it cheered her up like nothing else would. And she never grew tired of telling me funny stories when I could sit down and listen to her, when my chores were few; tell me about the places she'd been and the people she'd seen. With all that she'd done, she sounded more like an elderly grandparent rather than some sixteen year old girl. But no matter how wonderful her tales were, she always insisted that they were trash compared to mine. She adored my stories.

Because of that, I told them to her often.

She never talked about it. Running out of time. . .

Instead she'd read books- usually the ones her kid brother had sent her- and chatted animatedly about her sweet little sister, Azmaria, who (according to her) had the best voice in the world. She loved her siblings, and bragged about them endlessly. Didn't care much for her parents, though. Only mentioned them long enough to note that they were gone, and that she was being provided for by her Uncle Remington.

She pretended it didn't hurt when the nurses told her that her family wasn't allowed to visit- that she was just too sick. But she refused to let it get her down. She liked to see the bright side of things.

So they wrote letters.

She never talked about it. Running out of time. . .

Instead she kept a pocket watch on her bedside table. And it was always there. Always as it was the day before: The silver links of the neck-chain drooping off the edge of the wooden surface, the shiny brass face gleaming in the luminescent light, the soft ticking as the seconds trickled by. Yes, even if the apocalypse were to come, I can assure you- it would be there, keeping track of every moment.

She never told me where she'd gotten it from or why she kept it. There was a clock in her room, after all- a nice, state-of-the-art digital one. It even told the phases of the moon and the temperature outside. But she preferred using her antique.

She never talked about it. Running out of time. . .

Instead she let the coughing fits come as they pleased.

Instead she let the doctors poke and prod and stick her full of needles.

Instead she dealt with the hot and cold flashes, the insomnia, and the internal bleeding.

Instead she slowly slipped away.

She never talked about it. Running out of time. . .

Instead she laid quietly in that too-white room, sweat trickling down her face as I squeezed her hand. The oxygen tanks beside her groaned and squealed terribly, the heart monitor's beeping going haywire. Her grip tightened around mine.

Then her bleary eyes wearily sagged shut, blank- the tremors subsiding; breathing slowing and flesh growing cold. Her fingers loosened.

She never talked about it. Running out of time. . . And now her time had finally run out.

A wet sob lodging itself in my throat, I gradually managed to pry my hand from hers- not ever wanting to let go.

And on her bedside table, my Rosette's pocket watch stopped ticking.

_**X**_

_Ending Note: Rosette/Chrono angst of the 21st century!_

. . .Yeah. Just wanted to try an AU bit while still keeping the basic Chrono Crusade theme of 'running out of time'. So I had Rosette dying of disease, and Chrono a hospital worker. Sort of like my InuYasha fic 'I'll Remember You Forever'. . . only not. ;) 


	6. Drowning

_Disclaimer: I own Chrno, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you!_

Author's Note: Please see chapter one for note. 

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Drowning _

_**X**_

I've always loved his stories. From the time I was 12 to this very moment- it never has and never will fail to amaze me how intelligent and mystical he can sound. How his smooth voice rises like coils of colored smoke to the sky, disappearing among the stars. How his hands move without his thinking about it- molding characters and plots and scenery from an invisible putty, stretching the truth and squishing the lies. How he can capture your complete attention in a breath, his lightly closed orbs enchanting you and making you watch so intently- wanting so much to see the wisdom behind the hidden pools of ruby colored velvet.

In my eyes, he's never more in character than when he's telling some sort of legend, or a tale he made up himself- when he's creating those silky spider webs of enthralling mystery; wrapping you, trapping you, capturing you both with and without your will.

He will invoke thrill, and he will invoke horror. He will make you want to cry and laugh, scream and whisper. He will drive you mad with suspense, create tension that you only wish was weak enough to be cut by a knife. And he will lead you on- his characters' adventures only the tip of the ice burg when it comes to twists and turns and lessons and love.

His voice sows seeds of imagination into your mind, which quickly sprout into huge oaks- towering and expanding every moment; each idea branching into hundreds of thousands of different leafs of desire.

Arms spread again, fingers brushing some unseen force. His lips curve upwards into a small, delicious smile. It's like he's singing a spell- a spell that completely overwhelms your subconscious and sends you plummeting into a world of unexplained occurrences and abnormal normality.

You drown in his words. You drown in his words, in his voice, in his smile, in his gestures, in his being.

You drown and drown and drown and drown and don't care at all. What good is the breath of sense when it can't make you feel like this? If I could drown forever in his tales, I would. In a heart beat.

I'm drowning and drowning and drowning and I don't ever want to stop. I _need _to drown. I **need **to drown in him- his heart- his soul- his very essence.

But he will never know. Because I will never tell him. All I will say is: 

"Please, Chrono- tell me another?"

_**X**_

_Ending Note: I LOVE it when Chrono tells Rosette stories. . .he's just so sexy and wise! XD XD XD _


	7. Starry, Starry Night

_Disclaimer: I own Chrno, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you!_

_Author's Note: I've had a few questions, so here are the answers:_

_The metaphor in chapter three- Chrono and the watch. He was asking why does she care for the watch; why does she love it? He meant: Why do you care for me? Why do you love me?_

_I've also had mentions of 'please make these longer'. And. . . Um. . . I would, but that would defeat the purpose. These are ficlets- they're supposed to be short like this. (sweat drop)_

_Well, that's all. Oh- but a_ **warning** _for this chapter:_ **MILD** _spoilers for volume four. Nothing horrific or huge, just a tiny snippet of a scene and dialogue. (There's also a mild cliffhanger as to what actually ends up taking place in the story.) Though I add in Rosette's thoughts, I tried to stay as true to the manga as possible. Yea! XD_

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Starry, Starry Night_

_**X**_

He stood so carefully, so gracefully, so carelessly- balancing with a supernatural grace on the cold metal rail of the fence. His eyes closed lightly and his hands in his pockets, he turned his pale face towards the heavens; the stars' soft glow accenting the shadows of the night. A rustling wind brushed through, making his long hair flutter. Violet locks that shone like moonbeams, maroon jacket swaying with his braid, rosy lips still tenderly forming words she was meant to hear; to appreciate; to cherish. The epitome of all that ever was and ever would be Chrono.

But change was upon them. Change was taking over her, over him, over everything.

Change was unavoidable.

She didn't want things to change. She knew they already had.

He stood tall, like a statue; the star glow creating the faintest of shadows on the grassy ground before the cliff. She stood in that wavering silhouette, watching him blindly as he blindly watched the sky. The stars twinkled. Her heart thudded.

And he smiled. He tilted his head foreword and grinned directly at her, ruby colored pools full of swirling emotion. She swallowed, holding a hand to her heart. Guilt overwhelmed her at the loving expression; her thoughts tumbling over one another so quickly that she barely had time to process them.

'_Smilesmilehissmile,smileforme,neversmiledbefore;wantedtopushmeawayatfirst,whydoeshesmilenow?Iknownothing,nothingnothingnothingabouthimorhispastI'msoselfishselfishselfishIknownothing.WhoareyouChronoandwhatdidyoudo?Whathappenedtomakeyouwhoyouare,andwhydon'tyouhatemefornotknowing?Whywhywhywhychangeshouldn'tcomebutdoesIdon'tknowchangesinourlifeandtomeandtoyouasthestarsshineshineshine,andkeepshininginthenightsky. . .'_

"Rosette. . ."

Again, he was speaking to her- and again, the words his gentle voice delivered almost washed over her without her noticing; the gentlest wave on the beach. She started, blinking her wide blue orbs up at her partner.

He hopped off the railing, ever agile, ever poised. And in that instant, she was no longer the 12-year old she'd fallen back into being- just as Chrono was no longer the wise storyteller, the mythic answer-giver, the all powerful god she'd always thought he was. He didn't tower over her, he didn't gaze wistfully into the wind, he didn't smile at her like a child.

Reality broke the mirror of illusion.

He took three steps foreword and gave one turn back; staring at the disorientated girl over his shoulder. "I'll

have to tell you a story some day. . ."

She froze. _What was that over his shoulder. . . ?_

The thread connecting her changed heart to that of her younger self gave a tug.

Chrono continued, eyes downcast as he avoided her gaze. ". . . About something that happened a long time ago."

And somehow she knew she would not enjoy that story when it came time to hear it.


	8. And Make it Better

_Disclaimer: I own Chrno, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven.

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_And Make it Better_

_**X**_

She stared at him, brow furrowed in deep concentration. Concentration so deep, in fact, that she didn't even realize he was staring right back. A warm spring breeze rustled through, his tangled locks rustling as her pigtails swayed.

Then she spoke.

"Why do you wear that?"

Chrono blinked, tilting his head. "What, this?" He plucked at his weathered poncho, confused.

Rosette shook her head, serious expression on her face. Crossing her ankles and bringing her knees to her chin, she pointed towards his forehead, eyes narrowed slightly. "No, that. The headband."

Again, he blinked. "Um. . ."

"Maybe it's a fashion statement," Joshua yawned, stretching like a cat on the picnic blanket. His eyes drooped, the bright sunlight making him feel sleepy.

In response, the devil chuckled softly. "No, it's not a fashion statement." But the boy could no longer hear him.

No matter.

Rosette was the one interested, anyway.

"Oh?" she pressed, moving suddenly. Leaning foreword on her knees, she scooted three-fourths of the way towards him; still quite solemn. "It's not to keep your hair out of your eyes, is it? Because I usually braid it, you know, and that should keep it in check. I could make it tighter, if you want. . ."

Again, Chrono smiled- though he appeared a bit nervous. Restless hands began to toy with the pocket watch around his neck. "No, no, that's not it. The braids you do are perfect the way they are, thanks. . ." He flushed slightly, knowing how stupid he sounded. "I really wear it for no reason, it's just. . . Um. . . There. . . I swear."

The girl was neither convinced nor deterred. "I don't believe you," she stated bluntly, crawling up to him on her hands and knees. His eyes screamed that he wanted to run, but his body made no movements. The sunbeams pounded down upon him, broken only by the occasional passing of an ice-cream cloud. He gulped.

"I don't see anyone else wearing bands like you," she commented, leaning towards him. The uncomfortable expression on his face intensified. She didn't seem to care. "Was it a present?"

He frowned slightly, uneasiness replaced by gloom. "No. . ."

"Was it a prize?" She pressed closer.

"No. . ."

"Were you born in it?" Her hands rested against his crossed legs.

"No!" He wrinkled his nose, indignant.

"Well, then, why do you wear it?" Rosette huffed, confused and curious. "Take it off once in a while!" Reaching out a hand, she began to tug at the headband, succeeding in her self-appointed mission before Chrono even had a chance to register her movements.

"Wait, Rosettte, don't. . . !"

But she already had. Her eyes widened in horror as his mouth clenched, wincing when the wind hit the wound. The wound hidden by the band. . . Just above his pointed ears, covered by a thin curtain of purple hair, were two huge gorges- each still red. Scabs and scars of tender pink and stomach-dropping violet caked the deep injuries that penetrated his skull; peaks of bone still visible beneath the throbbing veins that lay just beyond the layer of bruised pale flesh.

He winced when her trembling fingertips brushed it- before he forcibly yanking the headband back into place. He hissed in pain. . . .

And then in surprise. For Rosette had fallen against his back, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. Trembling with suppressed tears of fright and sympathy, she pressed her lips to the rim of the headband- giving each side a quick, sticky, candy-sweet kiss.

Chrono stiffened, bewildered. "R-Rosette. . . ?" What was she. . . ?

"What?" she snapped, masking her pity with anger. "Haven't you ever heard of kissing it to make it better?"

The devil moved his head just enough to signify 'no'. Her arms tightened gently.

"Well, you have now."

". . ." He smiled slightly, the throbbing ache in his head lessening slightly. "Yes. I suppose I have."


	9. Chocolate Kisses

_Disclaimer: I own Chrno, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven.

**(Warning: Suggestive themes, Heavy (but rather vague) lime. Read at your own risk.) **

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Chocolate Kisses_

_**X**_

She smirked.

Canines peaking out and gently scraping her full bottom lip, she bent over- her militia robe's long rectangular flaps caressing the boy beneath her like a blue blanket. Her soft fingers interlocked with his own, the laced hands spread out to touch the far corners of the large backseat- crucifix style.

He tossed his head, impatient and whimpering. Hair fanned out around them like a soft violet cloud, he fluttered his eyes- ruby gems that shone like stars. Childish but ancient. Naive but wise. Loyal but mysterious. Innocent. . . Tainted. . . Ready.

Her grin widened. Opening her mouth slightly, she began her descent into the fiery pits of lust- closing the space between them at a tantalizingly slow rate. Her thighs squeezed his hips.

He gave another soft whine; their noses brushing. Small puffs of heated air mingled with one another, gazes locking.

A sweet scent filled his sensitive nose. Excitement welled- he waited.

And he was rewarded.

It was a chaste kiss at first, as always. Gentle presses with hesitant mouths that were afraid to miss a morsel of flesh and taste and tenderness. But soon the devil became restless and the angel became hungry. The grazing of teeth against skin joined the fun, breathless gasps racking their lungs as all of the building tension and thrill began to seep into their embrace. Burning, open mouths licked and nipped, hidden secrets adding spice to the already delectable flavor of love and sweat-sprinkled skin.

Chocolate.

Warm, dripping, sugary chocolate smudged and stained their faces, deposited by the other's skilled tongue. A drizzle oozed down her chin. He greedily lapped it up, earning a coo of approval. A blush, a moan, a sigh, a gasp. Sharing the tang of the treat as their lips locked passionately, linked fingers tightening in expectation, they moved against one another. White-hot adrenaline pumped through their veins; their clothing rustling; the glass in the car's window panes making tattle-tale sounds when the wind and rain pushed against it.

The darkness was their friend.

Hissing in pleasure, the demon had to forcefully bite his bottom lip in order to keep from calling out her name when the holy maiden caressed his cheek with her tongue, the velvety appendage tracing the outline of his sensitive ear. Lapping up the remaining candy with evident happiness, she nipped tauntingly at his lobe; whispering sweet nothings. He repaid the suggestive favor with one of his own; moving their tangled hands towards her legs. Tracing her thigh with the tip of a talon, he chuckled when she shivered and yelped quietly; a pant hitching in her throat.

He gave her nose a nip.

Chocolate gone.

For a third time, he sniveled; disappointed.

And for a third time, she smiled wickedly.

Guiding his fingers up her leg and towards her heated inner thigh again, she winked at his surprise. For-Strapped in her gun holster, just waiting for their use- was a second bar of chocolate. Stunned speechless, he helped her to remove it- trembling in anticipation. Watching with wide eyes when she lowered her mouth to the unwrapped delicacy, he gulped as she took a bite- then held out a hand for his turn.

She shook her head, eyes glittering seductively.

"It's okay," she whispered, leaning foreword once more. "I'll share."

And she did.


	10. Fright

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you!_

Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven. 

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Fright_

_**X**_

"Chrono. . . ?"

The whispered name echoed soundlessly through the stone room, making the groggy devil's ear give a slight twitch. One red eye peaked open.

"Rosette. . . ?" he whispered curiously, voice cracking. Sitting up slowly, he yawned and ran a hand through his loose hair. "What are you doing . . . ?"

She pouted slightly behind her too-big sleeves, hiding in the shadow of the doorway's left column. Embarrassed fingers flexing inside of the crisp folds of the nightshirt she had borrowed from Sister Kate, she bit her bottom lip. Her bare feet began shuffling. "I. . . um. . . that is to say. . ."

Chrono's head tilted, still heavy with sleep. Maroon orbs half lidded, he watched her shift nervously in the moonlight.

"I. . . uh. . ." Rosette swallowed, reaching up to twist a strand of her recently chopped hair. "I had a bad dream. . ." A magenta flush dusted her nose and cheeks.

"Oh. . ." The demon cleared his throat, still working to stay awake. From the room next door, the Elder gave a loud snore. "I see. . ."

"And I- I. . ." -the girl seemed to find her toes very fascinating all of the sudden- "I was wondering if. . . if I could. . ." She trailed off, glancing up at the devil with a hopeful shine in her eyes. He stared back in utmost bewilderment.

Her face fell.

"Er. . . never mind. . ." she choked, hugging herself tightly before moving to turn away. "Good night, Chrono."

He blinked after her.

"Wait- Rosette. . ."

She paused, glancing at him from over her shoulder with a depressed and empty look in her sapphire pools. "Yes. . . ?"

The demon smiled softly- the warm, gentle expression that he saved for her and her alone. "It's. . . it's awfully dark and scary in here . . . And to tell you the truth, I'm kind of frightened staying here all by myself. . . Would you mind staying with me tonight?"

An expression of pure relief shone on the young girl's face for a split second- before the cocky grin he had grown so fond of appeared in it's place. "Well, I _suppose_ I will. . . if you want me to."

"If it's not **too** much trouble," Chrono insisted, scooting over as Rosette shook her head violently 'no'. "Good. . . thank you."

"No problem!" she chirped, hopping into the space he'd made for her and cuddling underneath the blankets, using him as a huge teddy bear. "Don't worry, Chrono. I'll always protect you!"

He beamed softly, gingerly wrapping his arms around his young Contractor and burying his face in her hair, savoring the moment- knowing it would slip away all too fast. "I know you will, Rosette. I know."

_(Note: Everyone needs to write a little bedtime-fright fluff. . . it's like a tradition!)_


	11. Jealousy

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven.

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Jealousy_

_**X**_

He grumbled loudly, crossing his chubby arms in irritation. "Whatdya mean she's out in the woods AGAIN?"

Kevin arched an eyebrow, fixing his glasses before fixing his friend with a flat stare. "Exactly what I said. Geez, Billy- don't blow a gasket."

"I'm not! And don't patronize me!" the young boy growled, clenching his teeth in frustration. "I just don't understand her! She's such a sap! And she's always getting out of her chores! It's not fair. . . If it's not her brother, than it's the dumb trees!"

"I dunno," the brown haired one shrugged, wearing an indifferent expression; leaning against his shovel. "It might not be the dumb trees. . ."

Billy paused in his incoherent ranting- fist still raised as he turned his gaze towards Kevin. "What do you mean?"

Kevin shrugged again, straightening his overall straps. "Nothing really. . . it's just that I've heard the girls talking. . ."

"About. . . ?" the blonde prompted, irritation leaking into his voice.

"About a boy."

"What boy?" Billy snapped, eyes flashing. Kevin took a careful step backwards, waving his hands in defense. "What're you going on about!"

"I don't know much about it- and don't kill the messenger!" the brunette glared, brushing imaginary dust off his arms. "Anyway, Nelly and Sarah were discussing it and Mathew overheard and then told me. . . that Rosette's been talking in her sleep. Something about some guy named 'Chrono'. And she's always got this blush on her cheeks and she's started asking a lot about devils and stuff. . . Then, when Sarah asked her what it was all about, she just started stuttering and ran off into the woods."

"But she's always in there anyway," the other retorted- though Kevin swore he saw his friend's eyes turn momentarily green. "With her brother."

"Yeah. . . but now she's started going in there even without Joshua. I think she's meeting this 'Chrono' person." Kevin grinned, scooping a shovel full of dirt out of the ground. "Sounds like one of Joshua's dime novels, eh? 'Cept we gotta keep quiet or else Ms Jean will worry. Nelly keeps going on about how wonderful it is that Rosette's 'in love'. . . I think she wants to throw them a wedding. Isn't she silly? I keep telling her th- Billy? Billy, where are you going?"

"NOWHERE," the boy snarled, storming off towards the house. "And don't look at me like that, Kevin- I've told you once, I'll tell you again- I don't care about stupid Rosette!"

But the trail of crushed daisy petals that fell out of his pockets said otherwise.

_(Note: I dunno. . . in manga two I thought it was pretty safe to say that Billy had a little crush on Rosette. . . I just wanted to play with the idea. XD) _


	12. Acceptance

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven.

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Acceptance_

_**X** _

"That's why. . . I want to stay with her forever."

It's lines like those that really do a number on me- make me want to cry and smile and laugh and sigh all at the same time. I don't know if he even realizes it or not- if he even realizes how much it hurts me when he says things like that.

Chrono. . . he was the first boy to ever look at me without _really _looking. To see me as **me**: not as a pretty little tool or a weapon of mass destruction. He smiled for me- _at_ me. No one had ever smiled at me before- at least, not like he did. Or maybe it was just because _he_ was the one smiling. A boy- a boy my age (well, that's what he _looked_ like)- taking an interest in **me**. Me! A sweet boy- one who cared when I fell and asked me if I felt okay when my face looked flushed. A kind boy- one who would help me with my chores and leave me little treats when I was feeling down. A gentle boy- one who avoided conflict if at all possible; only fought to help people.

A taken boy. . . one already in love.

I suppose it sounds cliché. Rosette _is_ my best friend, after all- I even think of her as my big sister. I love her. She's my role model, my idol, my hero. I want to be just like her when I grow up. I want to be strong and courageous and helpful.

. . . I want have the kind of love she does. I want Chrono to love _me_, too. I want him to love **me** like he loves _her_.

But I know that's not possible.

At first I thought he might have a crush on me- he was warm and soft and very, very understanding. But I suppose I was being rash and overly hopeful. Of course he was going to be warm and soft and very, very understanding- he was trying to be my friend! He was trying to make me feel welcome, to help me get over all of the tragedies in my life.

I appreciated that. But I think it hurt me more than it helped. It took until the day at the lake for me to understand how stupid I was. That was when he told me how much of Rosette both he and she saw in me. It was then that I learnt what was truly going on.

Strangely, though- it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would.

Well, I suppose that's a lie. It hurt a lot- and if I hadn't been so flattered by his compliment, I might have started to cry. I was even a little angry at Rosette- but I couldn't possibly stay mad. It wasn't her fault- and she was being so kind to me. She only meant the best. She still only means the best.

So now I simply watch over them: sticking mainly to the sidelines; adding one or two comments along the way- pushing them together at times; pulling them apart at times; being there to help them kiss and make up most of the time. Sometimes I get a little jealous, yes- I try to be by his side more than her, try to win him over and sleep beside him when we travel- but when you truly love someone, you want to see them happy.

And I want to see Chrono happy. I want to see him very happy- happy with my big sister Rosette. The one who guides me and teaches me and makes me laugh and makes me cry and shows me how to do things the right way.

And who knows? Maybe I can be in their future wedding- playing quiet witness as they pledge to love each other for the rest of their lives. It will be romantic and sweet and I'll be thrilled for them- ignoring the quiet ache in my heart.

Yes, Chrono- I'll always love you. But because I love you, I'll never let you know.

_(Note: Last night, I had the misfortune of accidentally reading an Az/Chrono fic. No offence to anyone- but UGH. Then when I was watching the anime this morning, I couldn't help but notice Az trying to get close to Chrono more than necessary. . . _

_I dunno. I think it's pretty well shown in mangas 2 and onward that Azmaria fully realizes Chrono and Rosette's relationship and is actually playing matchmaker for them, but at the same time this was too fun of an idea to pass up. . . _

_  
That, and I just HAD to bash down the coupling a bit after reading that fic. . . (sweat drop) _

_And let me say this as a final closing: _Az/Joshua rock my socks!


	13. Confessions

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven.

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Confessions_

_**X**_

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. . ."

In his cramped wooden box, Father Remington straightened slightly- waking from his half-dozed state. Rosette was here- that was her voice behind the thin wooden panel. Finally, someone interesting! As unholy as it might be to say, Remington dreaded these confession days- simply because everyone's lives in this place were so boring! It was unbelievable how dull an exorcist business could be when it was run by nuns. And to hear choked sob after choked sob of 'I ate an extra apple at lunch!' and 'I accidentally thought the word 'damn' on a mission!' didn't ever give him any evidence to the contrary. Even the Elder's visits were dreary because they were **always** the same. '_Molested'_ this, '_groped'_ that. . . Only Sister Rosette's sessions were ever worth listening to- just because they were so various and wild in degree. One week it would be smashing the twenty first car, the next- throttling a throng of women found ogling Chrono, the week after that, breaking three dozen windows by accidentally firing a rubber band. A rubber band that flew into an empty glass, which then knocked a candle, which then cashed into a vase, which then fell against a- well, he forgot the exact details, but it had been quiet interesting to know how much damage a little loop of rubber could do.

Not that Sister Kate had shared the same fascination.

Nonetheless, the intrigue of hearing what the infamous Rosette could have done wrong this time was the treat that kept him awake through this weekly ordeal- whether God liked it or not. At least he was honest about it, right?

With a prompting noise to show he was listening, the girl outside the box continued.

"Well. . ." she began quietly, smacking her lips to try and muffle the embarrassed note that had leaked into her voice. "Mission wise I've been very good. . . I haven't crashed a single car or destroyed any buildings. Sister Kate says she's very pleased. But. . . um. . ."

He waited, interest and curiosity mounting, as she gave a lengthy pause.

"Well. . . three nights ago, and- well, last night, too- and after lunch today. . . and- goodness, there was earlier Friday morning, wasn't there? And after the mission in the car. . . and when we visited- er, not that it matters, but. . . I. . . Chrono and I. . . well. . ." She lowered her voice even more, leaning closer to the thin wall; whispering her (frequently repeated) sin as softly as possible. "We did _it_."

Inside the box, Remington's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates; face paling.

"And is bondage a sin, Father?" Rosette continued, the rustling of her habit indicating that she was straightening. "Because in that case, I need redemption for that, too, sir, because I found that Angels work really well. So do handcuffs, but Chrono accidentally broke our last pair- and scarves just don't work. Oh! And also, Father, I guess Chrono's a bit of a- what's the word?- oh yes, masochist. But since he can't come into church and confess himself, I told him I'd ask for forgiveness for him. Which reminds me, sadists- do they need extra prayers? Because then I need them, too. Lord, have mercy on my tainted soul!"

". . ." the priest gaped wordlessly at the wooden panel separating himself from the exorcist, completely at a loss of what to say.

"Father?" the girl prodded carefully. "Father, are you- ?"

"Twenty Hail Marys and thirty Our Fathers. For both of you," he interrupted, clearing his throat. But his voice still gave a quiver.

"All right. Thank you, Father- until next week, then!" Rosette sang before hopping out of the seat and dashing off, leaving the Father to seriously contemplate whether or not he should separate the pair or just buy some earplugs.

_**X**_

"You know, Rosette. . ."

"Hm?" the girl chirped, not at all surprised by her devil's sudden appearance. She simply closed the door to the church and spun to face him with an amused smile on her face. He returned the expression, but at the same time he crossed his arms and tried to shoot her a reprimanding glare.

"Lying is a sin, too."

"I know," the exorcist beamed, stretching contentedly before grabbing Chrono's hand. "But c'mon- they were already thinking it. What's the problem with having a little fun?"

Shaking his head, the boy allowed himself to be dragged off towards the walking grounds, rolling his eyes.

_(Note: I love the idea of Rosette going to confession. . . just because of all the wacky things you could do with it. In fact, someone could probably write a whole ficlet collection on the CC cast's confessions. _

_Hmm. . .) _


	14. Beginning

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven.

**_X_**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Beginning _

_**X**_

The trundling car rolled to a slow stop on the summit of the grassy slope; the hill that perfectly separated the green of the trees from the blue of the late afternoon sky. Azmaria pressed a single hand to the cool, smooth window of the limo from the inside; staring out at the ancient Michigan forest with sadness in her pink pools. Grip tightening on the cold urn in her lap, she cast a sideways glance at the jewel witch sitting across from her.

Satella nodded. It was time.

The door closest to the beautiful rolling scenery was opened by a bowing chauffer, but neither woman was in the mood to thank him for his efforts. In fact, if she opened her mouth, Azmaria was sure she would start to wail. And no- she couldn't do that now. Not when-

"!" She stiffened in surprise when she felt one ginger hand fall upon her shoulder. Twisting her head, she blinked her wide eyes up at Satella. The sorceress smiled tenderly, giving the young apostle a gentle push forward. The apprentice exorcist stumbled a bit at the unforeseen prod, but soon regained her balance and stood, proud and tall, at the very edge of the mount.

For a moment in time the world felt like it was spinning; out of control and much too fast. Images of blood and horror tore at her consciousness, making her wince and choke-

Until a soft _clack _brought her back to reality.

The worn and infamous pocket watch, now cold and silent, shifted on her collar bone.

". . ."

A sense of serenity washed over her like an unexpectedly warm wave.

Her long lashes slowly fluttering shut, she took a deep breath- breathing in the life of the woods surrounding the finally awakened orphanage. A pair of birds sang in a cluster of waving aspens. The pines' spicy needles perfumed the air- dandelions and daisies dancing in the gusts as her long tresses twisted and waved. A glowing red sun began to dye the heavens magenta, the colored edges gradually leaking inward.

A small smile tugged the corners of her pink lips.

She swore she heard their laughter in the breeze:

_None sing so wildly well as the angel Israfel. And the giddy stars (so legends tell), ceasing their hymns, attend the spell- of his voice, all mute. . ._

Removing the lid of the glossy blue jar with as much care as she could, the young girl allowed her eyes to slide to a half-lidded state.

"Rosette. . ." she whispered, vision blurred by tears as her grin widened. "Chrono. . . Thank you. . . For everything."

And as a second breeze spun through- a breeze that made her black velvet dress swirl and her silvery hair twirl- she threw the ashes into the air.

Behind her, Azmaria heard Satella choke back a small sob- though a beam was decorating her pretty face.

There was only one thing left to do.

Lifting her arms high, the girl opened her mouth wide- and sang like she had never sung before.

"_Blest be the tie that binds _

_our hearts in Christian love; _

_the fellowship of kindred minds _

_is like to that above._"

Her sweet, sweet voice rose and fell like an angel's; the few remaining buds on the flowering trees blooming gaily at the mere sound. Strands of forgotten Astral reshaped at her will, opening a path to the sea of souls for her friends. The shining sunray's vibrant glow intensified, creating a warm, holy calm that surrounded the peak like a protective aura.

"_Before our Father's throne _

_we pour our ardent prayers; _

_our fears, our hopes, our aims are one, _

_our comforts and our cares._"

She watched with a throbbing heart as the last remains of her big brother- her big sister- flew off into the sunset, dusting the landscape of their youth. Memories that she never knew and stories that she'd never been told whirled through her mind, solid enough to see but not tangible enough to understand.

"_We share each other's woes, _

_our mutual burdens bear; _

_and often for each other flows _

_the sympathizing tear." _

They were leaving her. It had been her greatest fear since what felt like forever, and now it had finally come to pass. But despite the overwhelming sorrow she felt, she couldn't help but feel something else, too. . . Something unexpected.

"_When we asunder part, _

_it gives us inward pain; _

_but we shall still be joined in heart, _

_and hope to meet again."_

**_Joy_**.

She didn't understand why, but an indescribable sensation of **joy** was coursing through her veins so quickly, so fiercely, that she thought she might burst with happiness.

Joy.

Why did she feel so thrilled? Perhaps because the people she loved the most were finally free? Free to love one another? Free to play with Joshua in the never-ending sunlight? Free to live like they had wanted to?

They had finally discovered the Astral Lines, as they dreamed. They had discovered them together. And someday, Azmaria swore, she'd write it all down in a book for them.

Yes. . . That might be why she felt so elated.

But that wasn't the only reason. . .

As a wide smile blossomed on her soft face and torrents of crystalline tears began cascading down her cherry cheeks, Azmaria pushed herself up to her tiptoes- voice echoing through the twilight with a clear, pure, magical ring; her wings forming with a burst of light.

She was also so joyful because she knew. . . _She knew_. . . That this wasn't the end.

"_When we asunder part, _

_it gives us inward pain; _

_but we shall still be joined in heart. . ." _

Waving a shy goodbye to the shadows of evening- the silhouettes of an Indian and his cowgirl- she laughed.

"_And hope to meet again!" _

Somehow- this was just the beginning.

_(Note: Blame my brothers for this one. They were talking about being cremated. Anyway. . . The song that Azmaria sings is called 'Blest Be the Tie that Binds'. And yes, it was around in the 1920s. (Way before it, too, actually.) I added part of another song in here, too (during the laughter bit)- it was from manga two. Rosette sings it and Chrono mentions how they used to sing it with Joshua all the time. (I hope to do more with that song later. . .) _

_Also- again- **I HAVE NEVER SEEN THE END OF CHRONO CRUSADE**. This is probably no where close to the end of either the anime or manga. . . (sweat drop) Oh well. . . Hope you liked it anyway!) _


	15. Just One More

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

_**X**_

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Just One More_

_**X**_

He bit his tongue painfully, trying his very, _very_ best not to lose his temper. It was taking a lot more will-power than he had originally thought it would.

Casting a careful glance towards the hyperactive siblings, the devil watched in mild irritation as they continued to prance merrily; giggling and sticking leaves in their hair. Rosette warbled what she called an Indian War Chant, and Joshua began attempting to squish red berries up in his palms; applying streaks of the juice to his face. Hopping in frantic circles around their demon, they began poking and prodding and pulling at him, wanting him to join their game.

In spite of his best attempts to keep calm, Chrono felt a vein on his forehead give a throb. "What are you doing?" he inquired a bit dryly, staring pointedly at the sky. The children persistently tugged on his sleeves, ignoring his hands as he tried to gently bat them away.

"We're getting ready for battle!" the little girl laughed, trying (and failing) to keep a solemn expression on her face. "Can't you see our impressive warrior makeup?" She pointed towards the maroon squiggles Joshua had applied to their cheeks. The boy grinned toothily, white shirt now stained with ruby-colored pulp.

Chrono's frown deepened. "Battle?" he repeated, voice oddly hallow. "You're playing. . . ?"

"Yeah!" Joshua smiled, waving a stick around like a sword. "Battle! It's fun. We both get to be the bad guys and the good guys and use sticks as weapons. And we take turns dieing- we can use other berries and stuff for blood and-! Eh-?"

He cut himself off in surprise when he felt one clawed hand harshly grab his forearm, yanking him to the ground before the devil. Rosette, too, had evidently been snagged and dragged into the dirt; her side bumping roughly into her brother's. They blinked, taken aback and shocked, as Chrono propped himself up on his knees in front of them; a scolding look on his face.

"Wha- Chrono, what's-?"

"Hey, why're y-!"

"War," he interrupted sternly, leaning towards them and staring into each set of blue eyes in turn, "is _nothing_ to joke about. Death and destruction is not funny. It is not a game." Taking a bit of his loose leather poncho, the Sinner dabbed the remains of the fruits off of the children's faces. "It is not something to joke about, or take lightly. I know. . . Many moons have passed and still. . . still I stare into the heavens each night and morn the passing of every soul I've sent to rejoin the stars. Every person in this world has a purpose in life, a journey to take, a path to follow- and war distracts them from such important things. There are many causes for which men should die. Pointless battle. . . is not one of them. It is a waste of time, a breaker of hearts, and the least helpful road to travel when looking to find the 'greater good'."

Sighing deeply, he placed one hand on each of the tiny shoulders before him. "Do you understa. . .

Huh?" He stiffened, stunned stupid- when he noticed the huge, glittering ocean orbs before him; wide and bursting with admiration. _'What the-?'_

"_**Wow**_. . ." Rosette gasped, looking almost as impressed as her younger brother, "th-that's so _amazing_. . ."

"W-w-what?" Chrono stammered, rearing back. "I don-"

"_What a good story!_" Joshua cried ardently, pale face flushed with excitement. "Chrono- please tell us another!"

"Yeah!" his sister chorused.

"Hold on! Wait a minute-!"

"PLEEEEEASE?" the two begged, bouncing up and down on their rears. "Just ONE MORE story?"

". . ."

The demon stared from one to the other, dazed. _'Well. . . That sort of backfired.'_

_(Note: Credit to Le-chan and her story 'Confessions of a Memory' which inspired this idea. (We just keep bouncing fic ideas off of one another. . . It's kinda funny. XD))_


	16. Smile

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

_**X**_

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Smile _

_**X**_

"And which one is that, Chrono?"

"That's Draco."

"Draco? Isn't that a dragon?"

"Yes, Rosette, very good- Draco is the dragon."

"Hm. . ." She cocked her head in the darkness, leaning back on her palms and kicking her feet to an unheard rhythm off the edge of the small cliff. "Doesn't look like a dragon to me. Only a line. . ."

The devil beside her nodded in understanding, still pointing out the constellation with a clawed finger. "That's what a lot of people say. You need to use your imagination to see it."

"Humph," the girl snorted, staring up at the velvety twilight sky. "You'd need a _really _good imagination to make a dragon out of **that**."

He chuckled, violet locks twisting in a gentle breeze. "Well, the ones who named these stars and designs _had _to have really good imaginations. They existed in a time where books didn't exist."

"_What?_" Rosette stiffened, startled and highly alarmed. "**_No books?_** Geez- I don't think Joshua could have _lived _back then!"

As if he had overheard, the boy sleeping under a nearby tree gave a loud snore. His sister clamped her hands over her mouth when he did so, reminding herself to keep quiet. Again, Chrono laughed softly; his eyes glittering in the starlight. The girl blushed, looking highly indignant.

"Well, it's true. . ." she pouted a bit, though she sounded rather amused. "I don't think _I_ could have, either. I don't have that good of an imagination. The only sort of symbolic thingy I can really see in the sky is the moon."

This time, the devil tilted his face, intrigued. "Oh, really?" he inquired, interested. "What symbol is that? The man in the moon?"

"Nah," she shook her head, scooting closer to the demon and tugging on his sleeve. "I'll tell you what I see." She waited until he glanced down at her-

And then grabbed the corners of her mouth, pulling her lips back in a very toothy grin.

". . ."

Chrono blinked, taken aback.

The child giggled, releasing her cheeks and pointing towards the crescent moon. "Don't you see? It's a smile!"

". . . ?" He stiffened slightly, shooting the girl a thoughtful look. ". . .I never noticed that before. . ."

A good-natured snicker met his pointed ears. "Well, now you have. And it's like the angels and God are always watching us- so even if you're having a sad day, there's always someone smiling for you! Even if God can be unfair. . ." She scowled for a moment, and then beamed widely up at the sky once more. "So it helps make you happy again. At least, it helps me."

Chrono glanced at the girl leaning against him in mild surprise. . . and then, for the first time, truly grinned in return. "I think it'll help me, too."

_(Note: _What!_ This is **unacceptable**. I just read in Manda-chan's newest fic's AN that she had a depressing birthday. _TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE_. And so, I wrote for you this ficlet. . . Which was also partly inspired by your new fic, which was very cute. XD Happy birthday! I hope you feel better!)_


	17. Questions

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

_**X**_

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Questions_

_**X**_

"Um. . . Rosette? Chrono?"

Both the exorcist and her devil looked up in surprise, the nun working tirelessly on darning her spare robes; Chrono reading a rather thick book. They beamed happily upon noticing Azmaria at the doorway, looking timid but oddly determined all the same.

". . . Yes?" the purpled haired demon prompted cheerfully, placing a bookmark in his novel and setting it on his Contractor's bedside table. "What is it Azmaria?"

The girl began fiddling with her overly large sleeves, taking a few timid steps into the room. "Uh. . . There's. . . something I've been meaning to ask you two. . ."

"Oh?" Rosette disposed of her sewing happily, most likely having been looking for an excuse to get rid of it for the past few hours. "Well, what is it?" she chirped, patting the mattress beside her. Chrono scooted over a bit, giving the apostle just enough room to fit snuggly between her best friends. "If you need anything, you should go ahead and say it. Don't be afraid!" She beamed toothily, in a way that only Rosette could.

Az continued to hesitate, her cheeks pink, but steadied her resolve upon looking into her "big sister's" good-natured blue pools. "W-well. . ." she swallowed, voice wavering slightly. "I was just wondering. . . Uh. . . Where. . ." She jammed her eyes shut, forcing the question out before it escaped her again. "_Where do babies come from?_"

". . ."

The silver haired child's lashes slowly fluttered open, fixing her gaze upon the nun- who had just blanched, eyes the size of dinner plates.

"B- b- wha. . . ?" She shot Chrono a pleading look, begging that he save her. The demon, however, was too busy massaging his temples to notice her frantic gaze.

"Great. . ." he muttered distractedly, trying fruitlessly to hide his burning cheeks, "You think her stepfather would've told her something, but _nooooooooo_- ! He had to be a lazy SOB and get slaughtered by that stupid Lejarie idiot. . ."

"You think I don't know that?" the nun snarled under her breath, yanking the boy's collar so that they could converse heatedly behind the girl's back. "And she was in band camp before that, dammit! Don't they teach kids _anything _these days?"

Mildly worried that the Sinner and his lover might have snapped, Azmaria craned her neck in an attempt to see what was going on behind her. Her curiosity was almost overwhelming, by this point. "I'm wait-ing!"

"Don't rush me!" Rosette snapped before immediately returning her attention to her devil. "Chrono- you're, like, over 100. So you go and tell her!"

"_What!_"

"Do it!"

"What does my **AGE **have anything t-?"

"I said **DO IT**!"

He sighed deeply, face a horrendously vivid shade of maroon. "Okay, okay! I'll do it. . ." Taking a deep breath, both he and Rosette straightened, steeling themselves for what was to come.

The apostle beamed apprehensively, glancing from one to the other, head tilted and blinking slowly in anticipation.

Chrono opened his mouth- !

And then closed it again.

Opened it- !

Closed it.

Open-

Closed.

Paused.

And then grinned tautly, hopping off the bed and grabbing the girl's hands; tugging her forward. "And that's all you'll _ever _need to know about where babies come from!"

"**_Huh_**?" Az stiffened in shock, beginning to struggle vainly when Rosette joined in- pushing her towards the exit from behind. "B-but you didn't tell me anything!"

"_Exactly_!" both chorused, snapping the door shut in her face.

And that was how it would be for a long, looooong time.

_(Note: All right, this idea- _in its entirety- _belongs to Lillian Claire, who added this little parody in script format to the end of one of our e-mails. And geez- I laughed SO hard when I read it, I just **had **to write it up for all of the CC fandom to enjoy. So credit to you, Lillian Claire-san! XD)_


	18. Dark

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Dark_

**X**

I remember a time, Rosette, when you were terrified of the night. A time when you would grab your brother's hand to "keep him from becoming frightened," when it was obviously you who trembled. A time when you would run, whimpering, into my arms whenever the shadows fell- as if afraid they'd take you away. A time when you would seek any form of protection against the color black. Yes, the stars were your salvation, moons and lanterns always flickering in your sapphire pools.

It only grew worse after Aion, after we found ourselves in the convent- truly separated for the first time since meeting. And I remember, Rosette, that every night you would sneak out of bed. . . wait until the iridescent dusk began to blossom on the horizon. . . and then spring through the window like a gazelle.

Sneak out of bed so that you could cling to me.

I always knew when you were coming. You could've been heard from miles away. I still remember it now. . . remember how easily I'd pick up the sound of your bare feet trampling the cool grass, the panting that echoed through your tiny chest, the muffled sobs of quelled horror- the taste of summer fog and sunset dew. But I always pretended that seeing you was a surprise. . . and I'd put down my book thoughtfully, scoot over, and allow you to cuddle me as if I were some sort of huge teddy bear.

I grew fond of our time together. Of those silent hours where I actually felt like I could protect you- not just bandage your wounds and tolerate your abuse. It filled me with a strange sort of satisfaction. A strange sort of. . . longing.

Longing. An ancient, sinful longing that started out small and began to grow- deep inside the crevasses and cracks in my heart. I tried to ignore the latter sensation, for it scared me. But I found I couldn't stop it.

. . . I stole a kiss from you, one night, Rosette. One sticky, sweaty night when the moon was red and the sky a violent violet. When you were only 13. I remember how sweet you tasted, how soft you were, how breathlessly you moaned- even in your slumber. How you whispered what sounded like my name; the katydids singing through the window.

But mostly I remember how much I hated myself in the morning.

I never did it again.

Yet I couldn't stop the feelings that had begun to surge through me whenever you appeared at my door; flushed and sweaty and all too dangerous in your lacy little gown. Your blinding white innocence, in my eyes, was much more seductive than the sultriness of the darkness I had grown knowing.

I wondered how much longer I could allow you beside me at nights without worrying for your wellbeing. But I soon learned I shouldn't have worried.

On the eve of your 15th birthday, your nighttime visits- which had been becoming fewer and farther between for months- stopped all together. Part of me was relieved.

Admittedly, it was a very small part.

Once I asked you why- one blustery fall day when we were trundling nonchalantly down a dusty country road, admiring the pines that swayed in the breeze. I posed the question quietly, in a tone that suggested that I didn't care; but to this day I am glad that you didn't see my eyes in that moment.

For they had turned a demonic shade of lust-red.

You laughed loudly, amusement and embarrassment both playing across your face. "Oh, Chrono," you smiled, clucking your tongue in exasperation. "Don't be stupid. Darkness isn't anything to fear. Everything's the same as in the light- it's just harder to see."

I didn't respond, only continued to keep my gaze glued to the window.

Rosette, you didn't- you don't- fool me. I could hear the wavering in your voice- no matter how well hidden it may have been. It wasn't the realization that the darkness wasn't anything to dread that drove you away- it was the realization that you couldn't escape from it. That darkness is everywhere: in your heart, in the Order, in every part of this world.

And most definitely. . . in me.

Perhaps that is why you no longer come to me when the fireflies flicker, casting their golden-green glow across the grounds; highlighting the indigo heavens. The twilight tattletales.

You frowned at my silence, casting me a warning look. "Seriously. I'm not a child anymore." Your hands tightened on the steering wheel. My heart grew heavy.

No, Rosette, you are not. You are no longer a child by any means. But still, I have one question for you. And please- answer it truthfully. I know. . . I always know. . . when you are lying. Rosette. . . my darling little Contractor. . .

Are you afraid of the dark?

_(Note: I was re-reading 'Chasing My Shadow' a while ago and decided I wanted to play with the dark Chrono theme a little more. XD Mwahaha. . .)_


	19. Cash or Check

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Cash or Check _

**X**

"What's with you?"

The violet haired boy sighed deeply at the question, flipping his long braid over his shoulder and leaning heavily against the sticky check table. "Just a bad day," he grumbled, dully watching the groceries go by on the conveyer belt. Broccoli for his mom, "Uncrustables" for his little sister Azmaria, Doritos for his dad. . . blegh. "And it's only gonna get worse."

"Why's that?" the cashier asked, scanning a box of Cocoa Puffs and blinking down at him with bright blue pools. "School wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Sure," he snorted, resting his chin in his hands and casting the girl an irritated glance. Her green plastic badge, upon which was carved the name _Rosette_, flashed dully in the grocery store's poor lighting. Behind him, three freshman cheerleaders gossiped while flipping through a glossy magazine and a strict looking woman in glasses waited impatiently for Rosette to finish with him. "If you think flunking two quizzes, being yelled at for being late, and getting stuck in the rain when your car broke down isn't 'that bad'."

Rosette flinched as she took a few coupons from his outstretched hand, noting the scratches beneath his black wristbands. He seemed to have been attacked by a dog, too. "All right, that _does_ suck."

"I know," he sighed gloomily, raking his fingers through his wild bangs. "And now—after I finish running my mom's chores, that is—I gotta go work at that God awful restaurant for a double shift, while still trying to cram in my American history homework."

"What homework is that?" she inquired while typing in the coupon's codes, eyes on her register. "Maybe I can help you. I had that class last year."

"I gotta come up with some '20s slang," he grunted, rummaging through his baggy pant's back pocket for his wallet. "Something to do with 'getting to know the time'. And normally, I guess it would be fun, but I just don't have the time for it, what with that essay I've still got to write."

"Hmm. . .well, don't worry; I've got it covered!" the blonde sang, happily tapping the last button on her keyboard. Spinning to face him, she smiled widely. "Cash or check?"

The teen sighed, flipping open his leather billfold. So she knew, but wasn't going to tell him? Typical. "Cash, I guess," he mumbled, so preoccupied that he didn't notice Rosette's growing grin—until she had reached over the counter and grabbed him by his button down shirt's white lapels, that is. "Wha—!"

"Cash it is, then, Chrono," she giggled softly as their noses brushed, taking a moment to enjoy the expression of wide-eyed surprise on his face—

Before covering his mouth with her own, kissing him so deeply that he almost fell to his knees, blindly grasping the paper bag dispenser for support. And oh, he needed the support. . . In fact, by the time she'd pulled away, his knees had become a mush similar to the tapioca his mother insisted on feeding Azmaria.

Rosette, slowly licking her lips while pulling away, proudly displayed her trademark smirk. "There you go—your American history homework is done. Now, aren't you glad you have a girlfriend as smart as me?" Chuckling and grabbing his wallet from his stiff grasp (for he seemed to have frozen in shock; face glowing bright red), the girl helped herself to exact change before blowing Chrono a good bye smooch. "Have a better day, and call me later, all right? Perhaps—if you're good—I'll _even_ give you a _check_. Mwahaha."

With a playful wink, she returned to work— apologizing casually to the woman behind him who was ranting about sinful teenage PDA. And, though he knew his mom was going to give him hell about the ice cream melting; and that Rosette was going to have her own "bitchfest" after getting off for the weekend; Chrono smiled.

He suddenly felt quite a bit better.

_(Note: Credit to Lechan-sama, who first used the slang "cash or check" in her fic HIRD, which is how I learned it. For those of you who don't know, it means "kiss me now, or kiss me later." Fun, ne? XD Hope you enjoyed!)_


	20. Sealed

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Sealed_

**X**

You sealed yourself away once, Chrono. In the tomb where I found you. Why you did so, I don't know. . . but I have a feeling it was for her. Mary Magdalene. I saw the way you stared at her picture, Chrono, the painting in the convent. You sealed yourself away with her, for fifty long years of nothingness.

Now you've done it again, Chrono. Only this time, it wasn't for her.

It was for me.

And as I stand here, staring at you—your mutated and scaly body hanging, as if crucified, from that large, spiteful cross, I can't help but wonder. . . Is this how Magdalene would have felt, had she been alive? When you sealed yourself away because of her. . . would she have felt like crying? Like screaming? Like dying?

Of course. . . she was already dead. But not me. . . _I'm alive, Chrono_. **I'm still here.** And you've left me. _You. Left. Me._ Don't give me that shit about wanting to save my life—if you really cared, you wouldn't have left me alone!

. . . No. No, I know you care. I shouldn't be so cruel. . .

But neither should you. I'm not letting you take the easy way out, Chrono. I won't let you stay on that bloody crucifix one moment longer.

I will awaken you one more time— if it's the last thing I do.

. . . And it just might be.

_(Note: I just read volume 5 for the first time today. And I cried. . . I cried so fricken' hard! AAAAAAUGH!) _


	21. Voice

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Voice_

**X**

"But nobody. . ." Chrono murmurs, allowing the golden glow of astral to surround him, radiating from his heart and encircling the idol, "likes being **forced** to do something against their will."

I smile slightly, an expression unnoticed by my devil companion, as he lifts his arms to the heavens; eyes closed and mouth open. He takes a breath. . . and then begins to chant, to sing, powerfully and towards the sky— his voice echoing through the deadly silence like an angel's.

"_Confutatis maledicitis_

_Flammis acribus addictis_

_Voca me cum benedictis. . ._"

I have always loved his voice. It is the voice, after all, which sang me to sleep so many nights. Which comforted me when I was sad or lonely, told me stories to make me smile. In fact, my life has been divided into two phases—before I met him and after. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that such a trivial sentence as "Who's there?" would change my life forever.

But it did.

Simply because it was him who said it.

"_Oro supplex et acclinis_

_Cor contritum quasi cinis_

_Gere curam mei finis!_"

I don't get to hear him sing much, anymore. I've grown too old for lullabies and fairytales, though part of me wishes he'd offer them, once in a while. Still, it's not as if I never get to hear his voice. We talk all of the time, after all. . . and he'll hum along with me if I start singing for some reason or another. But it's not the same. . .

And though I do sometimes get this rare treat. . . it comes with a price.

My hand clenches around the pocket watch, holding it tightly to my chest.

"_Lacrimosa dies illa_

_Qua resurget ex favilla_

_Judicandus homo reus_

_Huic ergo parce, Deus. . ._"

The golden god in Chrono's hands is floating, now, fading quickly from view. His voice continues to lift and lower in pitch, warm and strong and enchanting. Magic is at work here, weaving in and out of his words and his body.

"_Pie Jesu Domine,_

_Donna eis requiem._"

Closing my eyes lightly, I allow the last, beautiful notes to wash over me like a soothing wave. Amazing. . . In his voice lies so many secrets, mysteries, memories. Some are mine to share, some are not. . . but when the song is over—and it's always over too soon— the doorway to those esotericisms will be locked again, burying them _all_ within his heart. I hope he'll share those dreams with me, someday. . . But until then, I will simply cherish these moments. . . and the voice that I fell in love with.

The seal's many cogs and coils snap back into place.

"_**Amen**_."

_(Note: This ficlet was inspired by the first chapter of manga one—and the shot of Chrono sending back that golden idol. It looks to me like he's singing. . . and I've always wanted to play with that idea. Anyway, the hymn he uses here (or, rather, the last fourth or so of the particular hymn—it's actually quite long) is called Dies Irae, which I believe translates to 'The Day of Wrath'. It's Latin, just like Chrono's name. XD Spiffin', ne?)_

TRANSLATION: ('Cause I know someone will ask)

"_Having destroyed the accursed_

_Condemned them to the fierce flames_

_Count me among the blessed_

_I prostrate myself, supplicating_

_My heart in ashes, repentant_

_Take good care of my last moment!_

_That tearful day_

_When from the ashes shall rise again_

_sinful man to be judged_

_Therefore, pardon him, o God_

_Merciful Lord Jesus,_

_Give them rest._

_Amen."_


	22. Beautiful

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Beautiful_

**X**

"Let me do yours."

Rosette, her fingers still entangled in her demon's violet tresses, paused; surprised that the comfortable silence had been so casually broken. So surprised, in fact, that the yellow ribbon she had held tightly in her hands fell onto the mattress beside her, unnoticed when Chrono turned his head and fixed his ruby colored eyes upon her, quiet and hopeful.

"W—what?" she stammered, still in a state of semi-shock. Sunlight filtered though the convent windows, forcing the early morning darkness further and further into the corners. "What are you talking about?" 

"Your hair," the devil responded, attempting to sound nonchalant. But a hint of nervousness was easily detectible in his soft, child-like voice. "You do mine every day. Let me do yours for a change."

"I don't like change," Rosette muttered stubbornly in reply, tying off the end of the purple plait with the quickly re-snatched yellow strip. "Besides, I can do my hair myself. It's not as long or unmanageable as yours." To prove her point, the nun pushed a few blonde strands behind her ear. . . but they slipped back into her face almost instantly, the golden wisps too thick to be restrained. Chrono chuckled, twisting away as his Contractor hesitantly removed her hold on his completed braid.

"I'm not asking for you to stop helping me in the mornings," he grinned, amused; taking the brush from Rosette's tight grasp, "I just want to help _you_. If you don't like the word 'change,' though, how about I say, instead, 'to thank you for doing mine'?"

". . ." She considered for half a moment, cheeks pinking and body glowing in the light of the rising sun. "Um. . . well. . . okay. I guess." After all, where would saying "no" get her? Nowhere: she'd have hurt his feelings and then had to do the work herself.

And so she relented; seating herself on the edge of her mattress and allowing Chrono to kneel behind her, close enough to whisper in her ear. The thought alone was enough to make her blush darken—without the help of his skillful fingers combing through her tangled locks, working out the largest snarls before loosening the smaller ones with the comb. But that's what he began doing. . . and part of her never wanted him to stop.

His sudden, gentle laugh caused her to reopen the eyes she hadn't realized she'd closed. "Feel _that_ good?" he murmured questioningly near the nape of her neck. A shiver raced down her spine before she could tell it not to. This _was_ Chrono, after all. . .

. . . Or maybe that was _why _she felt so warm.

"Yeah," Rosette breathed, leaning back a bit on her hands. "It does, actually. Heh. . . I'd forgotten what it felt like to have your hair played with. . . Sarah and Nelly used to do mine all the time. That's how I learned to braid yours, actually."

"Mmm. . ." he hummed to show he was listening. The exorcist vaguely noticed the snapping sound of pony-tail holders over his voice, more in tune with the feel of her glossy tresses shifting between his fingers. "Is that why you cut your hair when we left? Because I would have braided it for you, if you'd have shown me how." 

_'But then you would have been able to do your own hair, as well.' _"Nah," she sighed, keeping her musings to herself. "I had. . . other reasons, then." The young woman didn't elaborate, so her friend didn't ask; only nodded to show his consent and finished her second pigtail.

"Well," he then smiled, patting the top of his tamer's head and startling her out of her relaxed trance, "in any case, I'm glad you grew it back. You look. . . cute with long hair."

"--!" Rosette instantly flushed, but hid it as she quickly stood (or, more accurately, leapt to her feet). "I'm not _cute_," she snorted, determinedly avoiding eye contact with the demon. "_Little kids_ are **cute**—and I'm not little anymore."

"I know that," Chrono retorted—so calm that the girl simply _had _to glance his way; take in his cheerful beam and red face. "But. . . if I'd have called you _beautiful_, like I'd wanted. . . you would have hit me."

". . ." Her entire body turned magenta.

Then she smacked him.

But a grin never once left her face for the entire course of the day. And the next morning—and every morning after—Chrono could be found fixing Rosette's hair. . .

Though not before he'd had his own done, first, of course.


	23. Can

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Can_

**X**

"H— how— why—!" 

I blink slowly, silently gazing at the spluttering Sister Kate with unconcerned eyes. Hands clasped behind my back and a slight sway in my stance, I simply stare: allowing the glasses-wearing pill to collect her thoughts; breaking three pens in the process.

"_Sister Rosette_," she eventually manages to snarl, standing and crumpling half a dozen sheets of paper as she does so. "I cannot **believe** we're actually going to have to talk about this—_again_! I know for a **fact** that you remember our first conversation, _regardless_ of how long ago it was."

Nodding, I smile slightly, further irritating the older woman.

"Then _why_?" Kate inquires, sounding almost desperate as she falls weakly back onto her chair. "Explain to me _why_ you were caught having— why you were holding— the _way you were_— _were_— with that DEVIL!" She blows out her cherry-red cheeks, piercing me with her sternest stare. "**_WHY _you were doing_. . . that_** **with CHRONO!**"

". . ." I consider for a moment, cocking my head slightly in thought. I could give her many reasons: because I love him, because he loves me, because it feels right. . . But instead I answer truthfully, a wicked little grin growing on my face. "Because I can."


	24. Real

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Real_

**X**

He wasn't. . . real, the first time I met him.

. . . Well, that's not true—but it's the only way I can think of putting it. He simply wasn't _real_. Sure, he could be touched and tickled, spoken to and ignored, but. . . at the same time, he couldn't be. There was a part of him missing. A large part— like a huge section of a bridge that had been burnt to the ground. It was as if I was on one end, and he was on the other: staring, smiling, simply being.

But not actually _living_.

And then. . . one day, something miraculous happened. While recovering from a particularly nasty row with Joshua (in which I had stomped off to "be alone"—meaning "with Chrono"), I accidentally smacked the poor devil. I had been angrily reenacting scenes from the fight and. . . well, let's just say the bruise on Chrono's face wasn't pretty.

But— for the very first time— he seemed to come alive. He was animated. Showed true emotion (or pain, as it were). Wasn't so. . . placid. Dead.

In some strange way, it was as if I had sucker punched a god. Because that was what he was to us: an untouchable god. And yet, somehow, I had been able to reach over that gap in the bridge and smack him.

. . . It felt good.

Of course, I didn't say that or do it again. Instead I attended to the demon's blossoming wound and apologized frantically, hiding my disappointment when he reverted back to the same old monotonous Chrono by nightfall. In fact, I probably _never_ would have said or done anything about it if it hadn't been for Chrono himself. Who, in a fit of wild guilt after Aion escaped with my brother, told me that I could hit him if I was ever angry— if I ever missed having a younger sibling to push around. I hadn't planned on taking him up on that offer (seriously, how cruel did he think I was?), but. . .

I remembered, in that instant, how much closer he'd felt after I'd hit him. And that had been on _accident_! If I really _meant_ to do it. . .

I tested my theory: I whapped him (timidly) on the shoulder. In response, he smiled— the first real, **true **smile I'd ever seen on his face.

And in that way, Chrono sealed his fate. Bet he regrets it now!

. . . But I don't. Heh heh.

_(Note: This one is dedicated to ownman114, who sent me the most entertaining and kind reviews for **each** **chapter** of this fic (Thank you!). Also, because he inspired me to write this particular ficlet with his very true and clever comment: "Yeah, the manga pointed that out too—somehow he (Chrono, obviously) went from being a mysterious devil whom Rosette and Joshua revered like a demigod to becoming Rosette's punching bag, personal bell boy, and the love of her life. Funny how so much can change in less than 5 years, huh?" Yes, very funny. I hope. ;) (PS. Yes, Chrono is a pedophile. XD (laughs))_


	25. Sessions

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Sessions_

**X**

Chrono shifted uncomfortably in the green velvet chair, cheeks positively on fire. "You thi—. . . WHAT?"

The woman sniffed disdainfully at the prospect of having to repeat herself, crossing her arms on her desk after straightening her name plaque: _Dr. Kate Remington, Psychiatric PHD_. Regardless, she kept her tone light and businesslike, with just a hint of cared concern. "Mr. Moriyama, I know this must be embarrassing for you, but really—if it's true, you're not alone. Hundreds upon thousands of men go through this and don't tell anyone about it because they're scared or shamed." A pause. "She's not threatening you, is she?"

"No!" Leaping to his feet with a yelp, Chrono began nervously toying with his braid, looking very much like he wanted to escape. But the thick oak door was locked right now and wouldn't be opened for another half hour. Besides, Rosette was right out there, and if she happened to catch a bit of this. . . conversation. . . Who's bright idea was it to come here, anyway? They didn't even need counseling. . . !_'Oh, yeah. Joshua and Az did it as a joke. Well, we'll see who's laughing later. . ._' "No, it's nothing like that at all!"

"I see your bruises from here, Mr. Moriyama."

The violet haired man flushed, straightening the lapels of his dress shirt. "Uh. . . er, that has a different explanation. . ."

"I see." Kate pursed her lips, jotting something down on a pad of paper. "Well, we have other people who deal with things like th—"

"I don't want it to be dealt with! Things are fine!" Chrono faltered. "Why am I still talking to you? Things are fine between me and my wif—!"

"But your scared posture," Dr. Remington pressed, eyes narrowing as she jammed a random pencil towards him emphatically. "Your shifty gaze, your nervous twitches! Where else could those come from?"

"YOU!"

"Hmm. . . you seem aggressive. Are you _sure_ you're not suffering from domestic abuse?"

"**_ARGH!_**"

_(Note: Okay, that was stupid. But I after watching Rosette beat up Chrono for the zillionth time, I began to wonder how it might be seen by others in another setting. ;) Weee!)_


	26. Knew

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Knew_

**X **

I knew. I always knew. Sometimes I did not _like_ **that** I knew; **what** I knew, but. . . But that was the nature of my condition, wasn't it? To know everything. . . the past, the present, the future. The only thing I did not know was myself.

. . . No.

No, I _did_ know myself. At least, a part of myself.

I knew my heart.

And I knew it belonged to you.

Yes, I knew before I'd even met you that I'd fall in love. And I knew, Chrono—I knew you'd feel the same. I knew that what we'd have would be special, however short lived. I knew how much you cared, though we rarely spoke of our feelings. . . Because I also knew what would happen to us—how the events that God had written would play out.

And I knew. . .

Perhaps the most painful thing I knew. . .

_I knew how much you'd love her._

I knew that. . . no matter how much I meant to you, now. . . She would eventually mean more. That your love for her would surpass whatever we had. You would tell me—and I hear your voice echoing inside my mind at this very moment, my Sinner—that "I want to protect Rosette. . . So much that it covers your part of my heart—!"

I knew that. I always, always knew that.

But I. . . I could never stop my feelings. I didn't _want_ to stop my feelings. Nor did I want to tell you of all the things I knew. . . of her. . . I didn't want you to know.

. . . Somewhere, deep in my heart, _I didn't want for you to meet her._ Though I knew you would—I **knew** I wouldn't be able to stop it. I could only accept it.

So I did.

I accepted it in my dreams, when only a child. I accepted it when I first met you, in that library. I accepted it when you touched my shoulder, held me in your arms. I accepted it when you shed those tears for me. And I accepted it when I exchanged my life for yours.

You were fated to love Rosette Christopher. And I was fated to bring you together.

I knew. _I always, always knew._

But in the end, I didn't care. Nothing would have been able to stop me from loving you.

. . . And of the many things I knew, that knowledge was the strongest.

_(Note: This one is dedicated to the workers at the Best Buy near my house, where today I forced a team of employees to tear apart the store in order to find me a copy of Chrono Crusade DVD 6. (A copy which the computers had said was there.) I love you guys! Anyway, I have always wanted to do a Magdalene piece like this, but forced myself to hold off until I knew a little more about her. This one is based purely off of the anime, as I have yet to truly meet her in the manga. Also, I just wanted to mention how impressed I was with Hilary Haag—she made a surprisingly good Magdalene. Though I sort of think they should have used different actresses, it made the transition between Chrono's two Contractors easier to deal with. (No matter how much I like Magdalene, I was admittedly nervous to face Chrono's past with her.) Anyway. . . I'll shut up, now. XD)_


	27. Shells

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Shells_

**X**

". . . I'm so, so sorry."

Rosette gave a small start at the unexpected sound of Chrono's voice, casting him an unreadable glance from over her shoulder. Waves rippled around her knees, nearly kissing the ends of her bunched-up habit. "What are you talking about?"

The devil swallowed, pulling his legs to his chest; upsetting the dry bump of sand on which he sat. "T—today. . . the seal. . ." He hung his head, hiding the tears that had begun glittering in the warm sunset. "I. . . am so sorry. . ."

". . . It's jake," she shrugged after a moment, dipping a hand beneath the gentle waves to pull up a shell. "As long as you're okay."

A soft snort, claws nearly puncturing the cloth he grasped. "It doesn't matter if _I'M _okay! It's you—!" He sighed heavily; sounding strained, sad. Silence returned for a few seconds— but was suddenly broken by more words. ". . . Sometimes I think," Chrono admitted quietly, barely heard over the lapping of the water, "that if I. . . because I'm— what I am—. . . It's all my fault!"

". . ." the nun blinked, the seashells clacking when her grip tightened. Then she blew out her cheeks, tossing him something from a pocket. Instinctively, he caught it— before even realizing the object had left her hand.

"?" Chrono jerked, pulling his eyes away from the rocky beach long enough to examine the thing in his hand. It turned out to be some sort of empty clamshell: clamped loosely shut, calcium exterior blanketed in slimy algae, splotched white and brown. He stared at it rather flatly. ". . . What is this?"

"It's a shell," Rosette replied in a cheerful tone, wading out of the lake and crouching next to her partner. "I found it especially for you."

Again, the demon looked mildly confused. "Er. . . thanks, I think," he said cautiously, clearing his throat to hide his sniffle. "But isn't it a little. . . uh. . ." He hesitated. ". . . not pretty?"

Rosette's beam widened, thumb and forefinger reaching out, prying the two shells apart—revealing the most gorgeous, opalescent coating within. Its iridescent interior glimmered in the remaining sunlight, smoothly changing from indigo to rose to golden to teal to pale cream. He involuntarily gasped, stunned by the simplistic beauty. "Ah," the girl then whispered, admiring the surprised expression on his face. "It's the inside that counts."

She walked away, back to the jalopy— giving him just enough time to uncover her hidden metaphor.

Smiling, he pocketed the shell and followed.

_(Note: This one was inspired by a walk on the beach my mum and I took. We were looking for shells and talking about gays—me, 'supporting/for them,' for lack of better words, my mom hesitant to accept— when I picked up an icky looking shell and she asked: "That's not the kind you're looking for, is it? It's kind of icky." and I replied: "It's the inside that counts." Then I went: ". . . Ficlet!" XD Heehee.)_


	28. Photograph

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Photograph_

**X**

"Granmma, what's that a picture of?"

The old woman paused beside the little boy, gaze following the finger that was pointing towards a faded black-and-white print on the wall. His wide, brown eyes bored into her own, chubby five-year-old hand raised; his chest pressed to the back of the old armchair upon which he stood.

She considered him for a moment before grinning gently, shuffling over to unhook the frame, seating herself on the sofa and providing the child a lap on which to snuggle. "This is a picture," she began quietly, trembling fingers tightening, "of my friends and I, when I was very young."

The little boy's chocolate pools widened, lips parted in surprise. "You're in there, Gramma?" he breathed, stunned. His grandmother chuckled, nodding—indicating a small girl with flowing silvery hair. "Yes," she murmured, "that one is me."

"Wow! You were pretty, Gramma!" he squealed, delighted. But then he paused, a frown marring his round features. " . . . Who are the others?" he inquired after a moment, blinking up at the senior. "Where are they now?"

". . ." The old woman sighed, gently placing the child back down on the ground before hobbling over to the wall; hanging the picture back up. "They've all. . . passed away. Satella—her, here—just recently. . . she's the one who left me this photo." She stared at the photograph for a moment, licking her chapped lips with a sad crease upon her brow. The boy hesitated before moving to stand beside his grandma, staring at the print as well.

"Mama says that she was named after one of your friends. Is that friend there?" he questioned, pushing himself to his tip-toes, still watching the unmoving group. His grandmother nodded, a tiny smile tugging on her lips.

"Yes. . . your mother was named after her, Rosette," she whispered, pointing to a tall girl with pale locks and a large grin. "And you. . . were named after him."

". . ." He wrinkled his nose, dark orbs narrowing; examining the short boy with the exasperatedly nervous expression and the long, braided tresses. "He looks kind of. . . scared."

The woman snorted, amused. "Yes, Satella did that to him. Oh, now, don't look so disappointed. Your mother didn't name you after a fool! She used to love hearing stories about her namesake's devil partner. He was, after all, the most loyal, brave, kind-hearted—"

But she was interrupted by a loud gasp.

"I'm named after. . . a _devil_. . . ?" the child breathed, shock written all over his face. But said shock quickly transformed into a wild grin. "Aaaa—! That's so **_cool_**!" Stars in his eyes, he turned towards the elder woman. "Gramma, tell me more! Tell me about the people in the picture! Pleeeeeeeeease?"

"—?" Azmaria gave a start, taken aback— then began to laugh, beaming; leading Chrono back to the couch. "Very well. . . it began, I believe, back in the year 1920, in an orphanage known as Seventh Bell. . ."

(_Note: Old idea I had with a new twist. The original was much more depressing than this. . . but little grandson Chrono got stuck in my head. Guess he wanted to be written about. XD Oh, and before anyone starts saying Az shouldn't still be around, I want to say that she _could_—she'd only be 93, if my calculations are correct. (2005-1924 is 81, she was already 12, so. . . ))  
_


	29. Moon

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven._

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Moon_

**X**

It reminded him of the moon, in a way— slowly evolving, swelling from a dark nothingness to a bright, full globe. Ever changing, ever growing. Blooming.

But at the same time, it wasn't like the moon at all. The lunar phases didn't give him the same feeling of thrill and fear and amazement; not even in the slightest. And though this was much more intimidating, it was also much more. . . well, fun; watching her belly gradually expand, blossoming from a tiny bulge to a healthy roundness.

Chrono smiled, pressing a hand and his lips to Rosette's stomach, blushing slightly underneath her grinning stare— laughing when the baby squirmed. No, it really wasn't like the moon at all. It was more like _magic_. . . and when he told her so, her beam widened; opening her arms for him.

"Any day, now. . ." the young woman whispered, cuddling closer to the devil when he laid beside her, tracing little circles on her abdomen. "I'll be glad when I can move again."

He chuckled, kissing her forehead; watching the full moon rise as they both fell asleep.

(_Note: Okaaaay. . . that one was inspired—and I'm serious—by a dream I had last night. o.O Crazy, I know. Still. . . it was a very cute dream. . . in a strange, strange way. But enough about that. I hope this one turned out all right, 'cause honestly, it was more embarrassing to write than Chocolate Kisses. Dunno why. . . I'm just weird like that. XD)_


	30. Together

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

_Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven. _

**WARNING: **Spoilers for the last anime episode of Chrono Crusade.

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Together_

**X**

"Azmaria. . . ?"

_The sky is beautiful today_, she noted, swinging her feet lightly against the railings; delicately seated upon the porch's banister. Her fingers tightened around the thick, wooden beam holding it all up—eyes on the glowing horizon: stained red and orange and violet and green. Really, it was a perfect evening. . . so bright and so clear, one could almost see the Astral Lines. Her entire body shimmered as hues of magenta rained down from the heavens. Rained and rained and rained. . .

"Azmaria—?"

Her lap was slowly becoming wet with her own raining tears; silently slipping down her flushed cheeks with no sign of stopping. But a smile. . . a smile was still upon her lips, joy bubbling just beneath the surface. _They had been happy. . ._ And for now, that was all she needed to know.

"Azmaria?"

Az gave a mild start when a tender hand fell against her shoulder, jolting her out of her thoughts. "Anna. . . ?"

The redhead grinned cheerfully— though it seemed rather forced— wetness collecting beneath her thick lashes. "Azmaria, they're almost here." Anna gestured vaguely towards the trundling parade of cars that was throwing up dust in the distance. They were from the Order. . . "They're coming to— to take Rosette. . ." She swallowed harshly, but was obviously unable to gulp down the lump in her throat. "We need to put her in her cof. . . you know."

". . ." Azmaria gazed blankly at her fellow sister for a long moment, only just remembering the ornate wooden casket Claire and Mary had retrieved from the nearest town a few hours ago. _Why is everyone in such a rush to bury the past?_ the small girl wondered, hopping off of the fence and turning to face her friends.

They looked like they were sleeping. . . holding hands, smiling, silent. She hoped they were having good dreams.

. . . wait a moment. The apostle whipped her head towards Anna, a frown on her face as she finally processed a previous statement. "You said Rosette was to be buried— near the convent, right?"

The older female blinked in surprise at the sudden harshness of the child's voice. "Y—yes. Yes, of course. Wh—?"

"What about Chrono?"

". . ." Anna spluttered wordlessly for a minute, eyes widening, before falling silent. "I. . . don't know," she then admitted in a whisper. "Sister Kate didn't say anything about him. . . and she didn't give us enough money for two coffins. I don't think the Order would let us bury him with Rosette, either. . . you know. . . because he was. . ."

"A wonderful person," Azmaria interrupted softly; tone clipped and frosted. "I understand." Fingers clenching, she stared at her saviors with a strange hotness burning her throat and determination welling inside. "But just because I understand. . ." she continued quietly, "doesn't mean I'm going to let them throw Chrono in the nearest dump."

"!" The redhead nearly began crying again, utterly horrified. "Az! Don't say things like that! I'm sure that Sister Kate would _never_ allow—!"

"Bury them together."

"—? Wh—what. . . ?"

"Bury them together," the girl repeated, more gently this time; kneeling in front of Rosette and Chrono. Her hands briefly brushed their legs, then landed against her own thighs. "The casket is big enough; this way he'll get a proper burial without the Order having kittens, and. . . and I think they'd like that." She glanced at the sister from over her shoulder, a watery beam playing on her features. "Don't you think so. . . ?"

". . ." Anna smiled—for real this time—, a hand falling to rest against her friend's pale head. "Yes. I think they would."

_(NOTE: This one was inspired by the last episode of the anime (gee, I bet you couldn't guess from the warning up top). . . when Az is visiting Rosette's__grave butis talking to both Rosette_ and _Chrono. Well, that and I was wondering: "That's great, Rosette's tombstone is beautiful . . . but where the hell is Chrono's? (sobs)")  
_  
_(**SELFISH PLUG ALERT:** If you like ficlets, the anime, the six-months-Chrono-and-Rosette-spent-alone-concept (or are wondering what they might have done during that half year)—please check out my new ficlet collection Sunsets. Pretty please? Thanks! XD XD XD)_


	31. Promise

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven.

**WARNING: **Mild spoilers for the sixth manga of Chrono Crusade.

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Promise_

**X**

"Here."

"Eh. . . ?" the demon's kitty-like appendages gave simultaneous twitches of curiosity; blinking wildly at the folder of papers she'd just been given by the beautiful blonde. "What's this? Is it the test results?" she questioned cheerfully, opening the packet with a bubbly disposition. Her face fell, however, when she discovered the contents— flipping through what appeared to be a small book of designs and plans. "Mary, this has nothing to do with Pandim—"

"I know." Mary giggled at the professor's pouting bottom lip, taking a seat beside her. "It's something I saw in a dream."

"Oh?" Shader instantly perked, straightening her round glasses. "A dream?" she echoed, awed. "Some dream! What a fantastic looking. . . er. . . what is it?"

Magdalene chuckled again, spreading the blueprints outon the table. "It's an astral focusing unit. At least, that's what it's supposed to be."

The Sinner wrinkled her nose, looking more closely at the detailed instructions and writing lining the pages. Complicated. . . just how she liked things. "Looks more like a pocket watch to me."

"It's meant to," the blonde nodded seriously. "It's for devils who make contracts in place of their horns—it ticks down how much life is left in their Contractor. And it helps the demon who initiates the pact conserve astral energy for as long as possible."

The professor nearly purred. "Quite the little do-hickey, Mary, my dear! I'm impressed! But. . ." Her perky, excited beam dulled slightly; locking gazes with her assistant. "But why are you giving these plans to me? Of what use is it to us? We're not horn-less, we have no Contractors. . . why?"

". . ." Magdalene bowed her head, brow crinkling. "I. . . am not sure, truthfully. Nor am I entirely certain what a 'contract' entails—or how I know of them. Perhaps it has something to do with Pandemonium's attack. . . But when I sleep I can see a future where. . . where Chrono will need this. For a girl."

Shader cocked her head, spluttering and baffled. "G— girl! _A human girl?_"

"Mmm."

"What girl!"

". . ." Mary began doodling small designs on the chrome tabletop with her forefinger, a distant sort of smile on her lips. "Her name will be Rosette Christopher. She will mean the world to Chrono—and he will mean the world to her." Lifting her chin out of her palm, the prophet beamed at the child-like woman. "I think you'll meet her, too, someday. . . and I hope that you like her, when that day arrives. In my dreams she's quite the little bearcat." She laughed, oblivious to the Sinner's concerned gaze.

"But. . . but—I thought that you. . . and that Chrono lov—"

The seer sighed, yet the grin remained. "Yes. . . Chrono. It's strange how time seems to revolve around him. I know the end, and yet. . . sometimes it seems. . . hm. Time is a funny thing. And speaking of time. . ." Magdalene placed one graceful hand over the cat demon's, causing their gazes to lock. She had grown quite serious—and desperate. "Shader, I must ask a favor of you."

"A favor?" the professor repeated, stunned; already tinkering with her much-beloved tools. "Uh—well, sure. What is it?"

"When the time is right—and you will know when that time comes—you must give this astral device to Chrono for me," the girl said solemnly, eyes dark with mystery. "And please. . . don't tell him of this. If asked, simply claim you thought of it yourself."

Shader gaped, nearly leaping to her feet. "WHAT? But—!"

Mary cut her off with a kind beam and a wave of her fingers. "Oh, don't worry. You're so intelligent, everyone will believe you. So. . . will you promise me? As a friend?"

". . ." the Sinner gradually smiled in return—a much more subdued and sincere smile than she usually wore— and nodded, placing her own hand on top of Mary's. "I may not understand. . . but I promise you, nonetheless."

"Thank you."

_(NOTE: One of two ficlets inspired by manga 6. I dunno exactly where this idea came from, though. . . I guess I just like playing with Magdalene's vast knowledge of the past and future—and Shader is SO CUTE in the graphic novel! XD XD XD XD XD Awww. . . good kitty. . .)  
_


	32. Some Getting Used To

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven.

**WARNING: **Mild spoilers for the sixth manga of Chrono Crusade.

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Some Getting Used To_

**X**

Left, right. (_Wow_.)

Up, down. (_This is sort of weird_!)

Shake, twist. (_I feel so much lighter. . ._)

Shrug— (_Like I've lost ten pounds_!)— yeah! (. _. . Well, I kinda have, now that I think about it_.)

And repeat! Left, rig—

"What on _Earth_ are you doing?"

Chrono froze, cheeks pinking as he spun to face his Contractor— noting the distinct lack of slapping against his back as he did so. (_This is gonna take some getting used to_.) "Er. . . I was just. . . um. . . getting used to. . ."

Rosette glowered. "God, Chrono—you had your braid hacked off, you're not posing for a shampoo advertisement of anything. So stop with the posing and shaking and let's go!"

But as he turned around to continue walking—feeling insanely embarrassed—, the nun couldn't help but muffle a whimper, fingers itching to plait nonexistent tresses. _Dammit_, she mentally sighed. _This is gonna take some getting used to. . ._

_(NOTE: The second ficlet idea I had from reading manga 6—yes, Chrono's beautiful braid was chopped off. NOOOOOOOOO! Perhaps the saddest moment in the entire series. . . (laughs) Nah, just kidding. XD But as a fangirl, I was slightly disappointed. I mean, c'mon— NOW how is Rosette supposed to get in any alone time with him when she can't braid his hair in the mornings? XD Oh well. Luckily, hair grows. Maybe it'll have a chance to grow back. (I seriously doubt it, but. . .) In any case, he still looks sexy. Though I doubt anything could ever change that. XD XD XD) _


	33. Left

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you! _

Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven.

**(WARNING: Mild spoilers for the end of the anime.)**

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Left_

**X**

'_It's been four months. . .'_

Mary had to consciously choke back a sniffle as she stared out the bleak dining room windows, watching the rain fall heavily against the ground. _'. . . but it feels more like four years.'_

Had it really just been this past summer that they were all laughing together? Teasing and jibing and worrying and praying together? Poking fun of unintentional innuendo and weaving tall tales to irk her? The young exorcist could still hear their voices haunt the halls. . . the giggles and curses and whispers both privatly and publicly shared.

Rosette. . . Chrono. . .

Whenever she thought of them now, all she could do was cry. Sure, she was glad that they had found happiness—that they had been together, in the end. But. . . what _now? _What about _them_? Claire and Anna? Azmaria? The other sisters?

. . . her. . . ?

It was still hard to believe that Rosette wasn't just going to crash through the door at any minute; a ruined jalopy to her name as she yelled obscenities at anything that moved.

"_**ARGH**_!"

Giving a jolting jump, the small blonde whipped her head towards the speaker; bright blue eyes wide with surprise. She wasn't the only one—the other sisters who had been quietly dining seemed to have been struck by the same momentary shock, yelping and crying out in horror. But though they all started to move, Azmaria was the first to take true action.

"Lessa! Melissa!" she gasped, notably worried when she spotted the girls. Jumping to her feet, she rushed towards the sodden, angry pair; both of whom were trudging rather resentfully through the hall doors, leaving pools and puddles the size of oceans in their wake. "Jeepers, what happened!"

"Sister Kate, that's what," the older of the two grumbled darkly, trying fruitlessly to wring out her curling hair; eyes flashing. "She was having kittens just because we made a mistake or two out on field today! Give us a break— it was our first time, you know?"

Whispers shot through the crowd like sacreds; women of all ages exchanging meaningful glances. "I see. . . what kind of mistake was it?" Claire inquired kindly, offering a hanky to the smaller, sneezing sister.

"Well," Melissa honked out, trying to peal her shoulder-length locks off of her cheeks and throat, "it— that is. . . it was more. . . er. . .plural then that." Smiling a bit nervously, she and her partner dropped their empty guns onto the table. "We crashed the car into a building 'cause the storm made road visibility so bad . . . and sorta took the building with us. Eh heh. Heh. . . " The teen's grin wavered, unnerved by all of the blank stares she was receiving. "Hey!" she grumbled defensively, "It was an _old_ building!"

"Yeah— Lissie's right!" Lessa insisted firmly, squeezing a waterfall out of her dress. "Those stupid cops had no idea what they were talking about. . . and that traffic jam wasn't our fault. . . neither was the explosions half way acro— okay, maybe we played a _little_ into that one. . ."

". . ."

The two girls cleared their throats rather guiltily, seating themselves on opposite sides of the closest table; avoiding the gazes of their fellow exorcists. Lissie began chewing her bottom lip; Lessa fiddling with her headdress and fingers. Both were beginning to look sick to their stomachs, worry clawing at their eyes.

Silence; a silence only broken by the steady '_drip. . . drip. . . drip. ._ ' of the exorcists soggy outfits.

Lessa swallowed, shifting nervously in her seat as the unspoken question finally wormed its way out of her mouth. "We're. . . uh. . . not gonna be kicked out. . . are we?"

". . ." A second class member with tight brown curls suddenly smiled; fixing her glasses with a kind snort of amusement. "I doubt it," she confessed gently, nodding meaningfully at the others. "I mean, what with how HER first jig went. . . right, Jinny?"

"Good lord!" another girl agreed with a laugh, causing both Melissa and Lessa's faces to tighten with bewilderment. "And that was perhaps her most contained mess!"

Anna nodded, patting the two newbies on the back. "Deanna and Jinny are right," she assured cheerfully. "The Order has seen a lot worse." Turning to the others, the redhead barely managed to contain a loud guffaw. "Remember the time she destroyed a whole block?"

"My favorite story was when she and Chrono sunk the Statue of Liberty!" a militia member by the name of Erin cheered, hiding a giggle behind her hand. Her partner, Summer, nodded frantically before adding: "But that time she managed to break all of the chapel windows with a rubber band was a close second."

"Huh—?" The two soaked members exchanged puzzled glances, then frowned. "Who are you talking about?"

All of the other sisters gasped loudly, looks of joy and mock fury on their faces. "WHAT! Why, Sister Rosette of course! Haven't you heard of her?"

"Er. . . should we have. . . ?"

"!" The twins Zena and Nina began snickering rather evilly, weaving their way to the front of the crowd in order to crouch low and snigger: "Oh my God, just listen to this—!"

And listen they did. Nor were they the only ones; from the furthest corner, Mary, too, listened—listened for what felt like hours as her peers ranted and raved and relived the entire story of Rosette and Chrono, each blunder and blessing, each fit and fight. Some defended the epics and others reacted like _she_ would have, until every one of the sisters was laughing and beaming and feeling so much better.

It was. . . sort of strange. _'They're having such fun,'_ Mary mused silently, resting her chin in her palm._ 'In fact, it's almost like Rosette. . .! ' _

That was when she realized something— stunned bewilderment causing her stomach to tickle and her cheeks to flush.

Almost like she. . .

'_. . . You never really left, did you, Rosette?' _

And for the first time in nearly four months, Mary felt a true smile tug on her lips.

_(This one refused to write itself correctly, but I still think it came out reasonably well. I had fun adding all of those new sisters. . . Hey, there's more in the Order than just Rosette, Az, Mary, Claire, and Anna, you know. XD But speaking of Mary, yes, this one was supposed to revolve around her. I really felt bad for her at the end of the anime series; she was so sad when Rosette disappeared. I think Mary really respected, loved, and even idolized Rosette— I would have liked to have seen more interaction between the characters.) _


	34. Blood Orange

_Disclaimer: I own Chrono, yes I do! I'm a liar, how 'bout you!_

Author's Note: See chapter one or chapter seven.

**X**

**Ticks of the Clock**

_Blood Orange_

**X**

I always wait up for him. Always. . . each night, every night; watching the twilight become dusk, then darkness, from within my gilded cage. The bright candlelight shimmers off of the gold candelabras and statues, velvet paints and woven tapestries illuminated by the moonlight. Countless charms reflect the glow; star shine making the windowed doors leading to my balcony sparkle like crystal.

My loose grip on my petticoats tightens a bit, blonde locks cascading over my shoulders with a slight curl. I subconsciously begin to pace, playing with the embroidered hem of my pale pink gown. My anxious footfalls are the only sound, the rest of the palace long since asleep. I, too, should rest. I know I should.

But I cannot.

Still. . . should anyone of consequence hear me (like mother), they will undoubtedly send the servants to investigate.

So, reluctantly, I force myself to sit before my vanity; attempting to calm my impatient body with happy thoughts. Thoughts like. . . him. _He will be here soon._ He won't let me down. No. . . he will come. (And on the bright side, now he won't be able to tease me about wearing a hole in the floor.)

Yes, he'll be here after the moon rises. After the gloom sets in. After the first werewolf sings. Not much longer now. . . Releasing the brush I'd started using out of boredom, I cast a glance towards the remains of last night's parting gift.

I pick up the final slice.

'_You taste like this. . . but sweeter.'_

A shiver races down my spine. Closing my eyes lightly, I savor the last piece as his words echo endlessly through my mind. Oh, it gives me tingles. . . ! And it makes me miss him more.

Why must time pass so slowly?

With an impatient sigh, I begin to toy absentmindedly with the silver cross necklace mother makes me wear during the day (and, had she her way, the night). Such a vexing thing— I despise it with every fiber of my being. But while she's around I must keep her happy. . .

However, she's not here now, is she? Smirking into the mirror, I eagerly unclip the wretched piece of jewelry, allowing it to fall with a soft clatter upon the wooden surface of the table. Now I'm ready for him.

_Creeek._ . .

I give a jolt, head snapping up. Eyes quickly scanning my mirror, I search for any disturbance in the reflection of my room. But there is none.

My heart begins to pound wildly, body tensing.

"!" A cold hand suddenly falls against my shoulder, tenderly sweeping my tresses away. Hot breath tickling the nape of my neck, I feel someone's smile-quirked lips press themselves lovingly to my flesh. Long strands of silken violet brush my rosy cheeks. 

The mirror shows only me.

I smile.

"Hello, love."

A chuckling purr. "Hello," he greets in an equally soft voice, one full of ardor. Giving my throat a teasing nip, he turns my chin towards his, capturing my lips. "My little blood orange. . ."

_(NOTE: Woo! Vampiric Chrono in action. . . he seems rather popular, now a days. Vampire Chrono, I mean. Anyway, this little medieval-esque piece was inspired by the Vampire Hunter D novel. Quite good, by the way. (And I'm very picky when it comes to books) Read it, if ya get the chance! XD) _


End file.
